


Old War Bird

by fickle_fixations



Series: Old War Bird [1]
Category: Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: Angst, Because of war, Flashback, Gen, M/M, Pining, Scars, Some Fluff, The Phoenix - Freeform, conall is basically the main leader of the dark fae, conall is kind of an empath, sort of a Simon Zealotes and Jesus dynamic, sort of kind of reincarnation, star crossed, the war crazed one is secretly soft for the peaceful one, would-be lovers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:08:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25793380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fickle_fixations/pseuds/fickle_fixations
Summary: Borra believes he and Conall should lead the dark fae in finally rising up and reclaiming what the humans took from them. Conall dreams of a different life, where he and Borra wouldn't have to tend to matters of war. A life where they could simply be together."The warm light of the fire danced on their faces. Flecks of ash rose to pepper their skin. It felt warm and safe and intimate. But things that felt like that, in the cruel world they lived in, could only last for a moment."
Relationships: Borra/Conall
Series: Old War Bird [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871164
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Old War Bird

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally supposed to be a preface/set up to a multi-chapter Maleval fic, but I've temporarily abandoned that. The fic would have explored the relationship between the Phoenix and the War Bird - two roles that are always filled in the Dark Fae community. It's not really reincarnation but it's not something one can choose to become either.  
> Thanks for checking out my fic :)

Conall's wings beat faster and harder than they ever had in his life. 

Wherever Maleficent was headed there was a good chance danger would be close by. A danger she would most likely not notice through her rising anger and fear. It was almost enough to make him smile: how similar she was to Borra.

He pressed on through the thick clouds. Silently, he called upon the phoenix blood inside him to give him strength. 

The humans were closing in on them. He could feel it. He feared he was too late.

Gold magic trailed off him, dispersing and fading over the treetops as he dove into the dense forest.

He could still feel them. The phoenix blood she shared with him roared. Getting louder. From deep in the woods, Borra's heart sang to him, like it always had. His heart was a beacon, guiding him to where he needed to be.

He sped closer and closer to Borra and-

Iron pierced his flesh. Pelting him. Burning.

He locked eyes with The Phoenix. The amber-gold fire in her eyes crackled and sparked. The fire burned with the passion of thousands upon thousands of dark fae. Of their ancestors. Of their brothers and sisters. Of the generations to come.

Iron tore at his wings.

He looked into Borra's eyes. He felt the familiar fear, pain and anger in that old war bird. It had always been there, but now those feelings were accompanied by sorrow. 

Conall tried to tell him that everything was going to be alright, though he had never been certain if Borra could feel his soul like he felt his. He prayed to someone or something that Borra would be able to know his thoughts, and one day be at peace.

The faces of the other two fae faded, until they were consumed by the darkness of the night.

_ "Our scouts saw a human sailing vessel today." Borra began before his feet had even touched the ground.  _

_ He paced as he went on.  _

_ "This is the third time this year. They're getting closer. They must be on to us! We need to act soon!" _

_ Conall grabbed him, a firm hand on each wing.  _

_ "Calm yourself, Borra." he said in gentle warning.  _

_ Conall nodded towards his feet. In his passion the scar-covered fae had almost stepped into the fire. _

_ Borra grasped his right hand briefly - a gesture of gratitude - before turning sharply away and out of his hold. _

_ “The people need us to act.” Borra spoke into the dark corners of the hut. “They need us to act now.” _

_ “You already know what I think of that,” Conall began. _

_ He was far too aware of everything his- everything Borra was feeling, It made it hard to maintain composure. He himself had never felt so much anger, but he felt it in Borra every day. _

_ “Come sit with me.” he sighed, “You need to eat something.” _

_ The desert fae was still and silent as a statue. _

_ Conall felt his emotions rising, like a growing fire. The deep reds of rage danced and yellow fear flickered in his heart. Orange sadness jumped throughout and beneath it all, something else, something blue crackled. _

_ “Borra, please.” _

_ The fire dimmed. _

_ “All these years, you made me believe in the coming of The Phoenix,” he said as he took his place on the ground beside Conall. _

_ He accepted a bowl of warm stew from the forest fae. _

_ “The coming of peace and how we need to wait.” he continued. _

_ He downed most of the stew in a few gulps, then set the bowl down beside him. _

_ “But the time is now.” he said resolutely, gripping his companion’s shoulder, “ _ You _ are the Phoenix. I’ve seen it in you, Conall. You are the one who will rise and lead us to victory.” _

_ Conall’s wings shuddered. Borra’s gaze bored into him, wild and searching.  _

_ Conall loved those eyes. Those eyes full of ancient zeal, from the time of the phoenix herself. He’d learned to no longer be frightened by the passion and devotion in Borra’s eyes.  _

_ “I’m not-” _

_ “You can lie to me until the moment you die, but I’ll always know the truth. I’ll always know what you are and the strength in you, my friend.” _

_ ‘My friend’  _

_ Those words always stung Conall, just a little bit. _

_ He knew what they meant. _

_ ‘My love’ _

_ It made him want to go to war. He knew Borra would deny the depth of their connection until it was safe and they lived in a world where they didn’t have to fear. Maybe war was the only path to eventual peace. _

_ He traced the scars on Borra’s arms with feather-light fingertips, eyes never leaving the other fae’s. _

_ The thought of the pain those scars held and the pain that was to come made his throat tighten. _

_ Conall had far fewer scars than him, because nearly every time he had been in harm’s way, Borra ended up throwing himself in front of him. He always tried to protect him, and take his pain. He bore the scars that had been meant for him.  _

_ “Tell me I’m wrong.” Borra tried to hide the crack in his voice. _

_ Conall’s fingers stopped their roaming and came up to brush against his cheek. The scars there blended with his natural markings that lead to his horns so beautifully. Every piece of him was fierce and hard and made for battle. Everything about him was beautiful. He left Conall in awe of his perfection.  _

_ “You old war bird,” he said softly, with a sad smile. _

_ Conall swept away a single cold tear from Borra’s cheek.  _

_ He wondered if Borra knew what he did: how peace would never come in  _ their _ time. How they would never have those beautifully simple days together that he dreamed of every night. _

_ At some point Borra’s hand had moved from his shoulder to the base of his neck. His hand was shaking as he leaned in, pressing his forehead against the other fae’s.  _

_ The warm light of the fire danced on their faces. Flecks of ash rose to pepper their skin. It felt warm and safe and intimate. But things that felt like that, in the cruel world they lived in, could only last for a moment. _

_ Borra broke away, rising abruptly and retreated to the shadows of the room to lay down to sleep. _

_ “My old war bird,” Conall whispered, “On my life you’ll live to see peace.” _

**Author's Note:**

> You can check out my Tumblr for more content and information about my writing :)


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